


}} and i'm regretting having memories

by Black



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Gore, Horror, Nonbinary Frisk who uses he/they prounouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black/pseuds/Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>;; of my friends, who they used to be beside me - before they left me to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	}} and i'm regretting having memories

**Author's Note:**

> spooky Gaster stuff.
> 
> ** lyrics from the fnaf 4 song from living tombstone

everything is cold.  
it heaps on the floor, sockets weeping black. hands curled into nothing. but pulling everything. there’s seams that are tearing and ripping and the ground around them releases out a soft sigh, and Frisk

reaches to their save file to find it whisked away missing corrupted a small cry a whimper in the dark and their mouth is dry. their tongue is heavy. there’s a pressure at the base of their jaw that creeps up, burrowing behind their eyes and it throbs and pounds and

rings in their ears. the blood rushing there. it aches. they watch as it pushes itself up, the stability of its form pitiful. it wheezes. wet. runs down what chin it has. gargles.

and vomits.  
strings and things - black and gangly. data. bits and pieces.

Frisk’s soul burns hot, tucked tight behind his ribs before surging forward on it’s own accord. it scares them at first - this hostile pile of cords and corpses wanted to fight them? this was different. this hurt their teeth. none of the other runs had been like this. they’d walked their road multiple times. dozens.

this time the corridor had been longer, much longer. a metal door clung to its left wall. riddled with age, the rivets picked at or missing and Frisk had found it eerily easy to open. beyond it, he had found...this. a figure hunched in the middle. a soft murmur. whispers.

and they approached it. slow.  
steady.

it hadn’t moved until they touched it.  
a mechanical noise.  
something digital.  
loud.  
it fell apart, collapsed onto the ground as it tried to disappear. it had attempted to scatter, the particles of it’s body separating before snapping back together with a noise that echoed a little too loudly in the empty room.

and here they were now,  
it’s tendrils whipping against the ground, inky blackness wet against the dirt. the dull roar of all the rushing water from beyond the door, Frisk found, was the only thing grounding them to any sort of reality. they had been scared of fighting Papyrus, of making their way through the ruins. it had simmered in their veins, just below the surface of their skin…

but this was cold fear. breaking through and crawling down their back.

they feel the familiar pull of battle. the beat of their soul of their heart and their breathing in sync and they are met with a wet slap of body matter on the ground, it’s eyes a furious blue and orange. they don’t even have to dodge the attack and then they attempt to figure out their options when their turn rolls around there’s

nothing.  
their fingers can’t find the  
fightactionitemsmercy  
and they watch as the wet spot blooms with life, writhing. wiggling. like worms and it makes them sick.

_you called for help._

the water answers.  
roaring from afar.  
Undyne’s waiting.  
the world is waiting for movement,  
for the continuation of [ **REDACTED** ]

not the stagnant air of this room.

_“b u t n ob ody c a m e.”_

it’s voice wavers, stutters, sputters, and stops.  
and then it laughs and laughs and laughs and it’s different voices mashed into one all right after one another and the ceiling starts to pixelate before everything crashes. data raining down. ones and twos and threes and sevens. fours. different symbols. numbers.

pieces of monsters.  
pictures.  
things.

  
they feel sick.  
their stomach churns and lurches as they watch as it excitedly bounces, sinking back into itself and sliding back - before launching forward. that wet sludge contorts and swallows the soul whole and they gasp out - legs nearly buckling at the feeling of

pins needles and teeth.  
the pull and drain

18 hp

15 hp

the attempt to fight back. the attempt to run.

13 hp.

splitting. splintering.  
cracked right down the middle.

10 hp.

“ _but nobody came_.”

something wet slides along right under their ear.  
they whimper.

8 hp.

white.  
black.  
the scream of orange and blue.

blasters?

Frisk can seem them looming through the panic, their bones dilapidated and their eyes hollow and empty. they rattle. mouths opening. stiff. dead.

4 hp.

3 hp.

the save button flashes. and then fight. fight. mercy.  
fight.  
fight.

2 hp.

1 hp.

_darker darker yet darker_

darker  
_darker_

darker

**FRISK YOU MUST STAY DETERMINED**

when they open their eyes it’s waterfall again and they feel real there’s no pain in their head there’s no dark room and they're

back outside Sans’ sentry stand and - he’s there. sockets blown wide. lazy, nonchalant stance a thing of the past. of the last load. “something happened,” they breathe, rising to their feet and Sans is nodding as if he already knows. as if he could feel it. feel reality ripping in two. as if his soul had been tight too. “i saw this monster, it...it was horrific. terrifying. i…it…”

the other monsters chatter on as if time had never stopped but Sans doesn’t offer to go to Grillby’s diner he doesn’t give his usual song and dance he just nervously laughs, fingers raking back against the wood.

“don’t say anything more kiddo,” his voice is rough, far more rough than his later outright threat to kill them, an outlandish whisper, and there’s things etched into his skull that Frisk can’t decipher completely. loss. ache. something lost. something found. had he wanted to find it? “don’t talk about people who are listening.”


End file.
